My Treasure
by Silver Spider
Summary: Many children area afraid of storms. Having a big brother who's the god of thunder doesn't automatic mean you're excluded. Art-inspired fluff and brotherly bonding.


**Author's Note: **Journey into Mystery-like because little Loki is too cute for words. Inspired by the beautiful art of April15 on deviantArt called My Tresore that melted my heart. ^_^ Enjoy and please review!

**My Treasure**

**By: Silver Spider**

It is hardly uncommon for children to be afraid of thunderstorms, forces of natures that are just so much bigger than they are. Even gods must sometimes bow to the elements, but Loki does not fear the rain, not when it is Thor's hand that commands the thunder, the lightning. Thor, his brother, who brought him back from nothingness, who gave him the second chance he does not deserve, who would let no harm befall him.

However the storm that rages outside does not bring rain or thunder, but ice falling from the skies. The cold air is sharp and biting, like a snake's fangs. The howling of winds is as if the the moaning of some distant giant in pain. Loki knows it is not so – his fears are foolish really – but he is so very little, and little things frighten easily.

Fortunately safety is not far.

Kicking at the blankets, the boy scrambles out of bed. His bare feet pad across the cold stone floors of the hallway until he reaches the massive doors at the end. Slowly he pushes them open.

"Thor?"

Thor lies on his stomach in the enormous bed at the far end of the room. One arm is buried under the pillow while furs and blankets are thrown haphazardly around his large frame. Loki edges closer.

"Thor? Brother?"

In an instant and with a sharp intake of breath, pale blond lashes lift and a pair of bright blue eyes opens to the near darkness. Thor is a warrior, and warriors are trained to be light sleepers. Loki can almost see his thoughts running through the usual assessment of surroundings, sensing for danger. Finding none, Thor relaxes and raises himself on an elbow. Adrenaline is fading, and sleep is edging back in. His eyes focus on Loki.

"What are you doing here, little brother? Is all well?"

"I... yes..." Suddenly the boy is shy and ashamed. What kind of god is he to be scared of a little wind and snow? He swallows. "The storm... My chambers face north. It's terribly cold."

It's only half a lie, and such a small one that he only feels a little guilty for it. Thor must know though; he always knows. A wry smile on his face, his brother sits up a little more and beckons him closer. Loki pads to the left side of the bed until he is standing at the head.

"Humm." Thor takes both of his hands in his one large one, squeezes his fingers gently, then with the other presses the center of his palm to the tip of the boy's nose. "By the gods, Loki, you are as ice! Come now. This won't do at all."

His voice holds a hint of exaggerated shock, but before the child can say anything, the older god throws an already-warm blanket over him, scoops him into his arms, and settles him on the bed next to him among the rest of the pillows and covers. Loki hardly takes up any space but still he shifts uncomfortably.

"I don't want to intrude."

"Nonsense." Thor settles back down next to him, right arm thrown protectively around the small bundle that is Loki. "I can hardly have my little brother freezing to death. And what of the giants out there? I cannot properly protect you from so far away."

Loki swallows and stares at him, the green of his eyes piercing the dark. "Giants?"

"Surely you heard them out in the wilderness."

He had! So it was _not_ just the wind... wait... "You jest." The boy wrinkles his nose and gives his brother his best glare. It's probably not very convincing.

"I tease." Thor's chest rumbles as he laughs, then leans closer and presses his lips against the child's brow. His beard is scratchy. "Go to sleep, Loki. You have nothing to fear from any giant, storm, or monster. None would dare come between me and that which I treasure most."

The child gives a contented little sigh and cuddles against his brother. His tiny fist takes hold of a long strand of golden hair. Just in case. Not that Thor would ever leave. Thor is big and strong and... and good! He radiates warmth and love like no other. _Monsters _should_ be afraid_, Loki decides sleepily. There can be no evil, no cold, that would not simply melt away at the touch of such light.


End file.
